Confiteor
by librawriter
Summary: Hermione can't sleep in the Black house. The Wizarding World depends on the success of the Trio, but who can Hermione turn to in her time of need? When Ron knocks on her door, she just might have her answer. One shot.


_A/N: If you are strict about canon, don't read this. If you don't think Ron and Hermione would ever have sex at any point during the Deathly Hallows book, skip this one. _

_Disclaimer: I write just for fun and own none of these characters. If I did, I would possess no alarm clocks ever again in life. _

_**Confiteor**_

It was late. The Black house wasn't the warmest on a good day, but with the rain and cold wind outside, the house was damn near a tomb. Hermione shuddered. She didn't want to think about anything having to do with death, though it would more than likely be a reality she may have to face. The thought saddened her beyond belief. And here they were, she and Harry and Ron setting out to fight the most dangerous wizard in history. They may never return. She may never see her family again. It was a good thing her parents had no recollection of her. It was good that to them, she never existed in the first place. If she went into battle and was overcome, her parents would be spared the pain of losing her. The thought brought tears to her eyes, which she wiped with the back of her sleeved night shirt.

She and the boys had each taken separate rooms in the Black house. Harry had taken Sirius' old room on the second floor, which Hermione understood, thought she was no certain she would have done the same in a similar situation. Hermione had chosen one of the guest rooms on the third floor and Ron had taken the room directly across the hall from her. For the past few nights, they had each retreated to their own rooms at night fall, and Hermione had lay in her bed and tossed fitfully until the sun came up. She wished she had the courage to go to Ron's room, but could never make herself do it. He might want to be alone, or he might be asleep, or he might be a thousand other things that didn't involve her interrupting him in the middle of the night just because she was slowly becoming a nervous wreck. So she suffered in silence. When she did sleep, she had nightmares. Horrid ones.

On this night, when both Ron and Harry had long since retired to their own bedrooms, Hermione grabbed a blanket and sat up on the window sill overlooking the London night, tracing falling rain drops down the window sill with her finger. She would have to think of some charms to cast on herself that would calm her nerves and leave no after effects. Another night of no sleep simply would not do.

No more than ten minutes had passed when there came a light tapping at her door, which surprised her.

"Come in," she called, half turning.

Ron peeked in, his hair disheveled but still looking built and wonderful and handsome all the same. Her heart quickened in pace as she gave him a small smile.

"I figured you'd be up. You hardly ate a thing at dinner earlier," Ron said. "Are you alright?"

Hermione shook her head as fresh tears burned at her eyes. She turned away from him then, ashamed of her weakness. She wiped her eyes again, knowing this was the last thing Ron needed to see right now. It was important that all of them be strong. "I'm sorry…I'll be okay, just give me a moment…"

She heard the sound of the door closing and thought for a second that Ron had left her alone. Her heart started to wilt in her chest, but then there he was beside her, holding out his hand.

"Come on. Lay down. I'll stay with you until you fall asleep," he said softly. He was barefoot, dressed for bed in his usual long flannel pants and a long sleeved Gryffindor Quidditch shirt. She was dressed the same, except her shirt was plain and white. She'd left her long wavy hair down, using it as somewhat of a warm cape as she'd watched the rain falling outside.

She was grateful he knew her well enough to come. Wordlessly, Hermione accepted his hand, which felt warm and strong around her own. He led her back to the bed, and slid in, holding the covers up for her. She lay down on her side, facing the window, not him, and held her breath while she waited for Ron to move closer. He didn't. He pulled the blanket up around her, but left a wide space between them.

He'd had the courage to come to her; she would have the courage to be near him, the way she needed right now.

"Hold me," she whispered. "Please." She moved back against Ron's body, and he promptly wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her even closer against him. His chest felt strong and muscular against her back. His body fit to hers like a magnet. Something started happening in her lower belly, a dull ache, almost. A stirring of some sort. When Ron took a breath, it tickled the hair at the back of her neck and made her heart race.

"Is this okay?" he whispered to her.

She nodded. "Yes. I'm glad you're here. I didn't want to be alone. I'm just so _afraid_."

"Me, too. But that's okay. It would be strange if we weren't." As he spoke, he traced little circles against her arm. It gave her goose bumps, and she wanted to shiver but didn't. All thoughts of sorrow disappeared, being replaced with feelings of something else- something stronger, something pure and happy.

She was in love with him, desperately. It had been there all along, and she hadn't recognized it about herself until fourth year. She'd watched him change from a boy into a man right before her very eyes. He was all she could ever want in a man, but she could never find the right time to tell him. She wouldn't even know how to begin to say it. She had a suspicion that he _might_ be attracted to her- the way she would always catch him staring at her, and then there was all the affection he had been giving her lately, more so than usual since they'd met up at the Burrow. The only thing she couldn't figure out was why he'd never said anything along the lines of wanting her to be a girlfriend, if he indeed felt attracted to her. Well, perhaps maybe because there was nothing more than sisterly friendship coming from him.

Being bold in matters of romance hadn't seemed to be an issue at all for Ron when it came to Lavender Brown. And this is where she talked herself out of ever being with Ron every time. If he truly felt something for her, he would have just told her. Because, hadn't he with Lavender? So it must mean that he really liked Lavender, or at least was ridiculously attracted to Lavender in a way that he wasn't with _her_. Hermione's heart sank at this thought.

_Well, the very last thing I feel like doing right now is sleeping. We may as well talk about it. _

"Ron?"

"Yes?"

"Were you in love with Lavender?"

Ron stopped touching her arm. "Lavender? Gods, no. Absolutely not."

Hermione's heart pounded as she braced herself to both ask and receive the answer to her next question. "Did you…did you…make love with her?"

"What? Is that what you thought?" Ron grabbed Hermione, pulling her around. She allowed it, and now their faces were only inches apart. She hardly dared to breathe.

"You were always all over her!" she said in a hushed voice. Even now, the memory of it stung.

"She was just, I dunno, _there_—"

"So you used her, then?"

"No! No, I didn't. I don't think I did. I mean, she was a nice enough girl. We just didn't have the right…I dunno…chemistry, I guess," Ron said. "It would never have worked between us."

"Oh," Hermione breathed.

"Besides…sometimes the one you want is the one you can't touch at all," Ron said softly.

He was looking into her eyes so intently that the pain from thinking about him with Lavender quickly subsided. His expression softened, and he reached up tenderly to touch some loose curls that had fallen across her face. "I didn't with her, Hermione. Not even close. We never even lay down like this. I've never, with anyone. I swear to you. It's actually quite pathetic."

Hermione flushed with pleasure that Ron had not gone as far as she'd feared. "It isn't pathetic at all!"

"Since we're on the subject of who's done what, what about you and Cormac?" Ron interrupted suddenly.

Hermione made a face. "Don't make me vomit!"

"And…and Krum?"

She fought a smile and then gave a dramatic sigh. "Oh, alright, but only _once_. I went to visit him in Bulgaria. We got carried away one night when his parents weren't home."

"I see," Ron said, looking shocked…and possibly hurt?

Hermione burst into giggles. "I'm only teasing you!"

"Well, it's not like I'd have cared if you had," Ron said sharply, turning from her.

Hermione stopped laughing at once, her sun suddenly ducking under clouds as she stared blankly at the space he'd put between them again.

"No, I don't suppose you would have," she said sadly. She rolled to her back, staring at the ceiling and feeling hurt all over again. They were _never_ going to get this right. Now the room was silent, and Hermione was left wishing he'd never come into her room at all. As if she hadn't enough to worry about than now having an awkward argument with Ron. She wanted to cry all over again and felt she was very near tears of frustration when he cleared his throat.

"Hermione?"

"What is it?"

"I lied, okay? I'd have cared."

Hermione smiled in the darkness, forgiving him instantly. "Me, too. I mean, about you and Lavender. I'm glad you didn't with her. I..I was just so jealous. I hated seeing you with her. It hurt so much."

Ron now rolled to his back, speaking to the ceiling quietly. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I never wanted to hurt anyone, but especially not you… Well, maybe I _did_ a little. Just to see if…just because I…"

"You what?"

He turned to look at her. Hermione waited, her heart beating violently against her chest. She couldn't move, couldn't utter another word until he answered her.

Ron shook his head slightly. "Hermione. Don't you know?"

"I don't. Tell me, Ron," she demanded breathlessly. They were close. She trembled from head to toe as thoughts ran rampant.

_I swear, if he tells me right now, I swear I will do anything he wants me to, I swear it, just let him say the words, Gods, I've been waiting years…._

A thought occurred to Hermione then. She might not have time to be this way with him again. She might not have past tomorrow. This might be her, their last chance. She summoned every bit of courage she ever possessed and nuzzled her nose against his, hoping, wanting him to tell her whatever he was going to, wanting it all. "Just tell me. Whatever is in your heart. That's always been a place you've kept from me, and I think now, more than ever, we should be honest with each other."

"If my heart was what you wanted, all you had to do was ask," Ron told her finally. They stared at each other as if seeing each other for the first time. He drew in a deep breath. "It's yours, Hermione. It's always been," he whispered.

"Oh, Ron…" she breathed. "Do you mean it?"

"I love you, Hermione."

She melted. "I love _you_, Ron. So much."

They leaned in at the same time, their mouths pressing firmly together as if charmed in place. In moments she was underneath him, and loving it, every second. The weight of his strong, built body pressed her into the soft bed, and she never wanted him to stop. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight. "I don't want this to be the last time. I want us to live through this. I won't let anything happen to you," she whispered as Ron's kisses trailed her neck.

"That's supposed to be my line," Ron said, kissing her again. He stopped then, with one arm tightly around her waist. He brushed some hair off her forehead with his other hand gently. "Hermione, I want to be with you forever. And I need you to know that through all of this, I'm going to love you and protect you. When it comes down to the final fight, I want you to know that I'm prepared to die…if it means making sure you stay safe," he said.

"_Ron_…" Hermione gasped, tears blurring her vision. He was willing to die for her. He'd said it aloud. It had been bloody worth it, all the years she had waited for him to come around, to hear him say these words to her. She felt the same way. But he wasn't going to die, and neither was she. They couldn't let that happen. They _would _protect each other. They had to. Their mouths found each other again, and now they were kissing with a passion that Hermione thought only existed in the few fantasy books she'd read. The reality was so much better. Every time Ron's tongue touched hers, she couldn't help the sounds that erupted from her. Ron's small noises of pleasure thrilled her to her soul. She arched her back to get closer as his hands rubbed her breasts, his mouth now on her neck. She whimpered with pleasure when his hands suddenly went lower, to the waist of her drawstring pants. Without thinking, she quickly squirmed out of them, Ron helping her get them off in just an eager a manner.

But then he stopped, his hands on her waist. He looked worried. "Maybe we should stop. I-I think I should go back to my room now, or I swear we're going to end up going all the way—"

"No. Don't go. I don't care. You can have me," Hermione whispered, circling her legs around his waist.

"But—"

She silenced him with a passionate kiss, grabbing him by the back of his neck and pulling him back down on top of her. There were no more words. They kissed each other nearly without ceasing and things suddenly became frantic and intense.

They ended up not undressing fully—Hermione pushed Ron's long pants down and he simply shoved her panties to the side just before driving his erection deeply inside of her. Their mouths never left each others, kissing steadily the whole time, moving against each other hard and fast, creating a friction that built up inside of Hermione and burst within minutes like a firecracker. She could only gasp, crying out suddenly as she held him as tightly agaainst her as she could until the feeling of pure euphoria left her body. Ron must have felt something too, the way he groaned against her hair and lay very still over her. They were both breathing heavily.

It was over. Virgins no more.

After wards, Ron lay in between her legs, his face against her neck, his fingers threading her hair. "Do you regret it?" he whispered to her, sounding very near sleep.

"No. I wanted it. I needed it. I needed you," Hermione said. She kissed Ron's now damp head. "We mustn't tell Harry. At least not right away."

"I agree, love."

"Ron?"

"Mmm?"

"Thank you."

"For what?" he murmured sleepily.

_For words said and not said. For moments shared and yet to be shared. For coming into my life. For being who you are. For letting me be who I am._

"Helping me sleep," Hermione answered, and closed her eyes. She would pretend that this night, this moment really could last forever.

_Forever and ever and ever with Ron. Yes, I like that very much_, she thought with a smile as she drifted off to sleep peacefully, in love and loved in return.

_A/N: _

_Confiteor- I confess_


End file.
